


Dreaming of Spring

by Carmarthen



Category: Mulan (1998)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Consent Issues, Enemies, Hostage Situations, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2538467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmarthen/pseuds/Carmarthen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He would not be afraid. He was a valued hostage, and whatever indignity, whatever humiliation he had to bear, he would do it gladly for his country.</i>
</p><p>(Pre-slash only, sorry.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming of Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostie/gifts).



> I wanted to write literally all of your _Mulan_ prompts, and then a whole lot of life happened and I didn't quite manage to write any of them. So I hope you enjoy this little bit of pre-iddy-hostage-sex-of-dubious-consent (we know it's gonna happen eventually).

The doorflap of the tent lifted aside, letting in a sharp gust of air that cut through the stifling closeness inside and made Shang, without his armor, shiver. There was no mistaking the massive shape outlined against the darkening evening sky.

Shan Yu saw him look at the bed before he could stop the telltale flick of his eyes. Nothing changed in his stance; he balanced lightly for all his size and solidity, as if he expected a fight even now, when Shang had given himself over in all honor as a hostage. His face was unreadable in the shifting shadow and firelight as he stepped closer, looming over Shang's kneeling form.

If Shang were free—he was taller, faster, trained to target an opponent's weaknesses even if the opponent seemed more implacable mountain than man, granite and immovable. He would have had a chance.

But he was not free, his wrists bound firmly at the small of his back.

This close Shan Yu overpowered with his sheer presence, the kind of man whose soldiers followed him eagerly. Shang himself had always had to be stern when he had no wish to be, knowing himself to be young and untried, a captain because he was the son of General Li. 

Despite all the ugly words Shang knew for the Huns, Shan Yu smelled no worse than any man who'd been on long campaign in winter, like stale sweat and horse and smoke, wet wool and iron. The muscles in his jaw twitched with some carefully controlled emotion; his strange yellow eyes glittered. He stood too close, watched too carefully, with eyes that seemed as sharp as his falcon's.

Shang made himself look up and meet that considering gaze. He would not let himself look away. He would not be afraid. He was a valued hostage, and whatever indignity, whatever humiliation he had to bear, he would do it gladly for his country.

"How discourteous of us," Shan Yu murmured at last, his Chinese only faintly accented, but so low Shang had to strain to hear him, "when you have given your word and are our honored guest, Captain Li. I must apologize for the misunderstanding."

Shang was lifted to his feet by his bound hands without effort, and it was all he could do not to look at the bed again, for Shan Yu was looking at him like a man did a woman (like he had looked at Fa Ping, once, but that was different, and he would never have—not a green youth under his command), or like a falcon might look at a mouse.

Shan Yu’s fingers were surprisingly deft, warm against Shang's skin as they made short work of the bonds. He kept Shang's hands trapped in his grip for a moment, examining his wrists for chafing with mocking solicitude. 

"Do not fear, boy," he whispered, leaning so close that Shang could feel his breath, close enough that it seemed at any moment there might be too-sharp teeth at his neck—he did not wonder what that would be like, he would not—but not close enough for their bodies to touch. "I won't force you."

But he could if he wished, said the huge hand closed around his wrists with the immovability of iron.

"Spring is a distant dream." Shan Yu continued, a whisper of silk and poison even as he released Shang from his grip and stepped back, taking warmth with him. "Our northern winters are cold. You may find, Captain Li Shang, that in the end my hospitality is not so unwelcome."

He lay awake that night on a pile of rugs on the opposite side of the fire from Shan Yu's bed, straining to see Shan Yu's sleeping bulk in the darkness. Shang told himself that it was because Shan Yu accepted his word of honor, and not merely a mark of how powerless he was, that his enemy would sleep fearlessly in his presence. At last sleep claimed him, although his dreams were restless and dark, filled with shifting shadows and the dull red glow of firelight, the gleam of watching amber eyes.

But he was not cold yet.


End file.
